


ERB: Hetalia

by Witchy1ness



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Germancest if you squint, Humor, Mild Language courtesy of Prussia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:35:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7565644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchy1ness/pseuds/Witchy1ness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>France sends Prussia a video link that stirs up some painful memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alexander the Great versus Ivan the Terrible

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Hetalia or any recognizable characters; they are all the property of Hidekaz Himaruya. Epic Rap Battles is the fantastic brainchild of Nice Peter, EpicLLOYD and the amazing staff at Maker Studios. 
> 
> Honestly, I have no idea why this crossover took so long to manifest LOL Written in 2016.
> 
> Reviews and constructive criticism welcome, all flames will be ignored.
> 
>  **German translations** :  
>  **Leck mich im Arsch** : (idiomatic translation) Kiss my ass  
>  _(Unbelievably, this seems to have entered the lexicon from a song composed by Mozart! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leck_mich_im_Arsch)_  
>  **Geheim** : confidential  
>  **Verdammt** : damn  
>  **Ja** : yes  
>  **Der Alte Fritz (the Old Fritz)** : Nickname for Frederick the Great, who was King of Prussia from 1740 to 1786.

Submerged as he was in reports detailing the continuing influx of immigrants, how the programs in place to handle the newcomers were doing, expense reports, relocation reports, police reports….Gilbert didn’t pay much attention when his computer’s email alert sounded.

It was noted, recognized as non-urgent, and tucked away for later consideration by the tiny part of his mind that was always aware of his surroundings – a hard habit to break though he hadn’t been an active soldier for decades. 

About ten seconds after _that_ , his forebrain latched onto the sound memory.

Roughly ten seconds after that, Gilbert ruefully admitted to himself – from his position face-down on the floor, where he’d landed after getting tangled in the chair he’d tried to vacate - that he hadn’t needed to respond _quite_ so awesomely to the thought of taking a break from all the numbers. 

_“Ugh...leck mich im Arsch….”_

Gilbert staggered to his feet, carefully not using the dining room table to lever himself upright; he’d rather not upset the towering piles of paper that spread over every inch of the ten-foot long table (He loved computers, truthfully, but when it came to things like this, he still preferred the feel of paper in his hands). 

Fortunately for his pride, the only one to see his rather un-awesome face-plant was Gilbird, who’d avoided the whole mess by simply taking flight. The little yellow chick perched back on his head once he’d regained his feet, cheeping inquisitively. 

“I'm okay, Gilbird.” 

The next problem was finding his laptop. He’d started out working at one end of the table, but had taken to walking around to grab papers as needed and sitting in whichever chair was closest, tossing and shifting papers as he went. 

Gilbert finally dug it out from under a pile of reports all stamped _GEHEIM_ in big red letters. 

His eyebrows raised as his Inbox showed one new email from Frances, the subject line being just a wink face emoticon. Settling on the floor, Gilbert leaned against a chair as he opened the email. There was no message, only a YouTube link. 

_Should I…..?_

Gilbert weighed the likelihood that Frances had sent him porn (Having lived so _very_ long, Frances delighted in finding videos of outrageous/taboo/just plain weird porn and damn near cooing over ‘how it was so _cute_ humans think this has never been done before!’) versus the fact that it was a YouTube video, so really, how bad could it be?

He hovered the cursor over the link indecisively, until Gilbird took matters into his own wings and hopped down onto Gilbert’s hand, forcing his finger to click. 

The page that opened _seemed_ innocuous.

“Alexander the Great vs Ivan the Terrible, Epic Rap Battles of History? What the hell?”

Gilbert was mystified, and the other videos listed on Autoplay didn’t tell him much either.

Obviously, people were dressing up as historical or fictional characters and rapping, but why did Frances think he’d care that Alexander the Great and Ivan the Terrible were going to face off in a rap battle? 

He remembered Ivan (brilliant yet crazy bastard) but didn’t care much about him beyond the fact that Gilbert had - as the Teutonic Knights - helped Sweden, Lithuania, and the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth kick his ass for nearly a quarter century. 

The video began to play. 

And Gilbert grinned despite himself. 

Even though the actors looked nothing like the people they were portraying, he had to give them credit. The raps were funny and the music catchy, and the costumes were pretty spot on. And all the obvious computer wizardry looked professional-grade as well. 

But when the lyric ‘What about a flute-busting Prussian?’ crossed the screen, Gilbert’s grin froze. And when the camera switched to an overhead shot his hand darted out, smacking the spacebar almost violently. The video paused, letting Gilbert’s shocked gaze devour the sight of a familiar uniform and the Prussian eagle – _his eagle_ – taking up his entire monitor. 

It was too much. 

He shoved the laptop aside, got up, and got back to work. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Half an hour later, a steady stream of curses in various languages tumbling from his mouth, Gilbert picked up his laptop, stalked over to the couch in the living room, and pressed play. 

By the end of the video, he wasn’t sure whether to be outraged that these people had turned Fritz into a mockery, or outraged because they’d only given him forty-five seconds of rap time.

Scowling, he flopped face-down on the couch, emotions and stomach roiling. Gilbird chirped worriedly from the couch arm, but Gilbert ignored him. He was still there when Ludwig came home a couple hours later. 

He didn’t respond to the other German’s “I’m home!”, faking sleep, and kept his breathing deep and even as he heard his brother’s footsteps near the couch. He fought not to flinch when a calloused finger poked the side of his head, but cracked open an eye when that same hand tugged none-too-gently on his ear. 

“Nice try, Gilbert. I can tell you’re not sleeping.” 

Gilbert sighed and swung his legs down as he shifted upright to lean sideways against the back of the couch. 

“You’re not working either,” his brother continued dryly, accepting the unspoken invitation and sitting down as he simultaneously loosened his tie. 

Gilbert merely pointed at his laptop. 

Ludwig sighed tiredly. “Gilbert, I am really not in the mood for cat videos-“ 

“Frances sent me a video link.” 

Ludwig paused. 

“Gilbert, I am really not in the mood for _that_ kind of cat video-“ 

“Just watch the _verdammt_ thing, would you!”

The other male sat back, studying him warily. Fortunately, Ludwig seemed to pick up that Gilbert didn’t want to talk about it – whatever _it_ was – just yet. 

So he merely nodded and reached to wake up the laptop. 

Another time, Gil would have laughed at the way Ludwig’s brow puckered in confusion, but now he merely sat and watched reactions play over the blonde’s face as he watched the video. 

When _that_ lyric came up, Gilbert preoccupied himself with fiddling with Ludwig’s sleeve cuff. 

A brief flick of assessing blue eyes had Gil shaking his head. 

Gilbert relaxed when the video ended, but Ludwig hit the replay button. This time though, he hit pause right after the-person-who-is- _not_ -Fritz’s part.

Ludwig leaned back against the couch, fingers tapping thoughtfully on the cushions. 

“You are upset because of _how_ they portrayed _Der Alte Fritz_ , or because they portrayed him at all?” He said finally.

“Not – Yes – No - _Fuck_ I don’t know…” Gilbert slumped forward, resting his forehead on Ludwig’s shoulder, childishly clutching at his sleeve.

Silence reigned for a few minutes.

Ludwig sighed, shifting so that his other hand could cup the back of his brother’s head as he rested his cheek against him.

“It is good that they remember him, _ja_?” he murmured quietly.

He didn’t move, even as he felt Gilbert’s entire body tense. After several long moments the Prussian relaxed. 

“…. _ja_ ….”

Ludwig dropped his hand and stood up with a sigh, Gilbert’s hands falling to lay in his lap. “Why don’t I get supper going while you-“ he grimaced at the sight of the dining room table, “-straighten things up a little?” 

Gilbert _hmmed_ noncommittally, but reached for his laptop as soon as his brother was out of the room. 

He still wasn’t sure how he felt about _this_ video, but his emotions were too tangled to sort through right now. 

A distraction was what was needed, and fortunately, there was an entire list of other videos from the same guys, and the Deadpool versus Boba Fett one looked interesting…..


	2. Omake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prussia isn't the only one France sent a video link to....

It was all America’s fault.

Which was hardly an unusual state of affairs, France thought dryly. 

But if Alfred hadn’t sent him that video link of a rap battle between **Joan of Arc** \- and _sacré bleu_ when were those Americans going to get her name right? It was _Jeanne_! – **versus Miley Cyrus** , he never would have had his curiosity piqued and checked out the rest of the videos. 

France had been of two minds for the **Napoleon versus Napoleon** , but in the end decided to enjoy the video in the spirit it had been intended.

And okay, it wasn’t _really_ Alfred’s fault that Frances had gleefully begun spamming other nations with the videos that contained their own people, but _maybe_ sending that particular video to Prussia had been too much. 

But the _rest_ ….!

He’d sent Germany the link for **Justin Bieber versus Beethoven** , but the other nation hadn’t responded (he’d also CC’d Austria on it, cackling the entire time). As to the **Hitler versus Vader** ones, well...for the most part, the nations had an unspoken agreement that certain subjects were off-limits when it came to humour. 

Japan’s response to **Goku versus Superman** was to send him the link for a channel that did Disney Princess Rap Battles.

He’d sent the **Artists versus TMNT** and **Christopher Columbus versus Captain Kirk** to both Italys, but North Italy had responded with an invective-laden rant that had landed directly in France’s Trash folder, while South Italy had excitedly asked if France could introduce him to this Captain Kirk and the Turtles. 

Debating with himself on whether he should send North Korea the link for **Hulk Hogan and Macho Man versus Kim Jong-Il** lasted for days, but ultimately France decided that he really didn’t feel like sparking an international incident at the moment. 

He’d almost (in a fit of wine-induced bravado), sent the links for **Rasputin versus Stalin** and **Alexander the Great versus Ivan the Terrible** to Russia, although he had wisely decided not to at the last moment. The people making these videos had done nothing to deserve having the lead pipe of Russia come after them. 

But the videos he’d sent to _Arthur_!

 **Batman versus Sherlock Holmes** had gotten him an electronic eye-roll and an exasperated “Don’t you have anything better to do with your time?”

 **James Bond versus Austin Powers** got a scathing reply – but it was more along the lines of “I’ve told you to stop sending me stupid videos, you twit!” rather than outrage over the video itself.

But **Dr. Seuss versus Shakespeare** , on the other hand…Arthur hadn’t actually responded, but the next day Frances had gotten a long email from America complaining, essentially, about ‘Dude, you totally sold me out, man! Not cool!’ From which Frances had extrapolated that Arthur had deduced (or, looked it up) the source of the videos and gone to lay blame squarely on the shoulders of the nation responsible for them. 

Given the delay between his sending the initial email to Britain, and when he received the email from America, France strongly suspected the other two nations may have done a little more than just argue.

Other nations had either not responded to his emails, or responded with variations on ‘Stop emailing me!’

Frances smirked as he lazily contemplated a glass of wine. Maybe he should dig a little more into those **Princess Rap Battles** ….


End file.
